


In the Arms of a Killer

by rotg5311



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hurt, Kidnapped Tony Stark, Kidnapping, M/M, Young Tony Stark, mafia, mafia!bucky, servant - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-03 18:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17883317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rotg5311/pseuds/rotg5311
Summary: Tony and Howard have always had a rocky relationship to put it nicely. To put it realistically, they hate each other. So what happens when Howard owes the Mob money, and they take Tony for ransom?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Found a little prompt about Mob Boss Bucky and I just couldn't get it out of my head. Hope I'm not the only with this kink

“Your Daddy owes us money,” the man had Tony by the hair, speaking calmly and clearly, as if it was just a normal day for him. The complete opposite of how Tony was feeling. “So you’re ours until he pays up.”

“Please.” Tony pleaded, refusing to cry no matter how desperately he wanted to. “Just let me go.”

“You deaf, or just stupid?” The red headed female in the front seat said in a harsh tone. “What did he just say? No money, no freedom.”

“You’ll never get it.” Tony told the two of them, along with the third gooney that was driving. He could’ve laughed about the irony if he wasn’t so terrified. “Howard would never trade his most treasured possession for his least favorite thing on the planet.”

That, at least, made the redhead look at the blonde brute that was tugging on Tony’s hair. A brief conversation Tony didn’t understand took place within their eyes before they looked back at him.

“Kid, we’ll get money or we’ll get servitude, but either way we’re getting paid what we’re owed.”

It was the least comforting thought he’d had all day. Tony didn’t know what Howard owed these people, but it was enough for them to kidnap his only son. Too bad it wasn’t his Mother instead. Howard loved two things in this world; Money and Maria, in that order. He’d pay any amount to have her back. But as soon as he thought it, he pleaded to whatever God might be listening to ignore it. Tony knew Howard would never pay for his return, but he’d willingly give up himself to protect his Mother. She was the most important thing in his life. Tony knew she’d be fighting tooth and nail with Howard for Tony back as well as he knew Howard would never agree. He’d probably give her some bullshit excuse like ‘I don’t negotiate with terrorists.’

At least if Tony died at the hands of these grade A assholes, it would probably be the thing that finally makes his Mother leave Howard. She’s light years out of his league, and he’d been pleading with her to just leave him for years. If his death finally got that to happen, then it was well worth it.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the two people up front talking in Russian. Tony had a Russian nanny for a year before he drove her off with his monstrous behavior. That left him with enough knowledge to recognize some of the words they were throwing out. The guy that had finally let go of his hair, but still firmly held his arms, even though they were tied behind his back, looked even more confused than Tony. It was a small victory, but he took it out of pure pettiness. Tony recognized ‘Boss’, ‘money’, and ‘mad’, none of which bode well for him.

“Hey guys, you know I don’t like when you do that.” Blondie complained from his spot above Tony. It was almost enough to make him roll his eyes. Almost. Last time he tried that, the red head almost broke his eye socket with how hard she punched him.

“Then learn!” She snapped at him. Clearly this wasn’t the first time they had that conversation. “Everyone else can speak that, and more, except you. капризный ребенок.”

Tony let out a snort before he could stop himself. That’s what his Nanny used to call him whenever he whined. It was essentially ‘cry baby’. Bracing himself for a slap at the very least, he was surprised that she just gave him a smirk and a wink instead.

The ride took forever, and the two up front switched to another language when they realized Tony knew some of what they said. Unfortunately he didn’t even have a clue what language it was, much less what they were saying. When they finally got to where they were going, Tony got the same rough treatment he received when they took him. Pushing, shoving, harsh words, and the very painful twisting of his fingers and arms.

“Hey, I’m willing to comply. Take it easy, Darling.” Tony told the blonde man, who just wrinkled his nose at that and slapped Tony upside the head. He had the feeling that his mouth would get him in a lot of trouble. From what he could tell, this was some sort of mob. They weren’t afraid to hurt him, and they didn’t like when he mouthed off… The only problem was that Tony couldn’t help it. From a young age, he tended to let things slip out of his mouth without thinking. It had always gotten him in trouble, but now it could get him killed.

“I say we just put a bullet in the back of his head and tell the Boss some bullshit story.” The man who had been driving finally spoke up. Tony’s breath caught in his throat before the blonde man laughed.

“Yeah, if you wanna die along with him.”

It made his stomach churn. The more they talked about their ‘Boss’, the less Tony could pretend he was fine. He was already with a couple of brutes, but they referred to the man in charge like he was extra deadly. Though he supposed that made sense. If you’re going to run a mob, you’ve got to be the best of the best, and by best, Tony meant worst.

If he thought the sketchy Pedo van was bad, it was nothing compared to where they took him. It was dark, so Tony could vaguely make out the shape of what was probably a stunning mansion. Going through what must be the basement, the inside was nothing like the outside. Cold, dark, dank. One of his worst nightmares… filth and dungeons. Who even had prison cells in their basement? It was absolutely ridiculous, but at least they threw him in the bigger looking one of the three. Small mercies.

There was what he could only imagine the equivalent of an army bed in one corner with a scratchy looking blanket folded at the bottom end in one corner. That was the only furniture. Even real prison cells had toilets, but not this one. Great.

“So what if I have to Pee?” Tony asked, unable to keep the horror off his face.

“Don't.” Is all the redhead said before she was taking off up the stairs, presumably up to the rest of the house.

“Sleep.” The blonde man told him, locking the cell door. “I’ll be down for you sometime tomorrow.”

Then they were gone, leaving Tony alone. He was cold, hungry, and not even remotely tired. The light flicked off, leaving Tony alone in the dark, and then the panic set in.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony wasn’t sure how long he slept for, but whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. He knew he must’ve spent hours in utter panic, trying to escape, with no avail. But, true to his word to himself, Tony didn’t cry once. Eventually he fumbled his way to the thin ass, weak excuse for a bed to try and sleep. He was so wired that he thought he’d never sleep. Much to his surprise he was out as soon as his head hit his non-existent pillow. When he was woken up, he was stiff, his eyes burned, and every injury he sustained the day before came back tenfold.

“Five more minutes.” He said, pulling the blanket over his face. No one was in the cell with him yet, so they couldn’t punish him for it.

“Stark. Up.” The voice was recognizable as the blonde man from the day before. With an extreme reluctance, Tony sat up, groaning at each ache and pain in his body.

“Yes, dear.” He mumbled to himself. Blondie looked a lot better in the suit he had changed into. Tony could tell right away that it was expensive. These people had money. “So you’re bringing me to a bathroom now, right?”

“I’ve never seen someone with a death wish like you’ve got, Stark. Stop talking.” But before Tony could add in a snarky remark, the man kept going. “Bathroom, then to the Boss. You mouth off to him, I guarantee he’ll make you regret it. It’ll be nothing compared to Tasha’s love tap.”

He gestured to Tony’s eye, which was on fire and nearly closed shut. So the red head was Tasha. Natasha? Or something else?

As soon as they left the basement, Tony could feel himself bursting out of the panicky cocoon he had started building around himself overnight. Ritzy places brought out the worst in him automatically. He was filled with confidence, knowing that it would only get him in trouble, yet he didn't care. Even the bathroom was cleaner than where he spent the night. Unfortunately no windows were present for him to try and escape. Tony relieved himself as quickly as he could before heading back out to face his fate.

Tony wondered what they had in store for him. Ideally, he’d be here for under a day before Howard paid them back the money they clearly deserved, then he’d be home getting showered with love and attention. That’s how it would go for a normal, functioning family. Too bad he wasn’t part of one of those. There was no way Howard would pay for Tony’s life. He tried not to let the thought keep him bitter, but it was hard.

But they had said something about servitude in place of money. That sounded...awful. Tony was spoiled, he knew that. He’d been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth. There had never been a day in his life where he had to do any physical labor against his will. It almost sounded worse than death to become a slave. This house was so sparkling clean though that Tony knew there must be over a dozen maids working daily to keep it that way… Were they paid or being kept against their will?

Then, in true Tony fashion, he automatically thought of the other way ‘servitude’ could be taken. Sexually. Tony’s favorite way to take anything. However, he couldn’t imagine being a sex slave. Sure, all three of the people he’d seen so far were more attractive than most people, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be used like that. It was the principle of it. He would’ve slept with them all willingly...just not like this. And with his luck, the mob Boss would be the one using him. And who’s to say he’s not old, fat, and smelly. No thanks.

They stopped outside a thick, wooden door. If Tony wasn’t on the verge of panicking once again about his future, he would’ve taken the time to appreciate the craftsmanship of the door itself. Handmade, old, expensive. None of it mattered now though. The man knocked twice on the door, waiting for a response.

“Yeah.” Was the only reply Tony heard, and even then, it was muffled. Steeling himself, he tried beating his own mind into submission. ‘If you’re an asshole, you’ll get yourself killed.’ Is what he kept playing over and over again in his mind.

The office on the other side of the door was just as carefully decorated as the rest of the house had been. The table even matched the door. Nice. then Tony let his eyes drift up from the desk to the gray suit that clung to the man behind it. Dark, shoulder length hair, stubble, blue eyes. On one hand, Tony thought the man looked like a hardened criminal, it was there in his eyes for all to see. But… Tony couldn’t help but feel a flicker of attraction. Guys that looked like this guy were supposed to be male models or actors, not killers. To each their own, Tony guessed.

“Hiya.” Was the only thing Tony said, giving the man a small wave. The Blonde next to him just looked at him with disappointment. Tony was going to get hurt by one of them, he just wasn’t sure who’d do it first.

“Steve, you can leave us.” The man said, looking away from Tony and back down at the paperwork in front of him. The blonde, Steve, nodded and left without a word. “Have a seat.”

Tony eyed the seat in front of the desk before lowering himself into it slowly. If an outsider were to look in, assuming this room had windows, it would look like an interview. It was laughable, but thankfully he kept it in.

“Do you know why you’re here Tony?” The man asked, still not looking up. An accent was there that Tony couldn’t place.

“Because the Universe is playing some cruel joke on me?” Tony offered, flinching when intense blue eyes flickered up to meet his.

“There are a lot of cruel things in this world, Tony. This isn’t one of them.” He said, folding his hands together on top of the desk. One black glove covered the left hand, and Tony couldn’t help but stare. Why? “It’s a glove. You can look all you want, but that won’t change the fact that it’s just a glove.”

Tony’s face burnt. Not many people had the balls to call him out like that. It gave him a certain level of respect for the man. Anyone that could put Tony in his place was alright.

“I was kind of hoping it might turn into something. Like a sandwich. I’m starving.”

“You know, I can’t tell if you’re suicidal or just plain stupid.” The man told him, refusing to break eye contact. If Tony wasn’t so stubborn he would squirm under the man's gaze. Instead, he locked eyes and smirked back.

“Debatable. But you were telling me about how, when, and why Howie screwed you over. And why I’m responsible for it.”

If that twitch of the man’s lip was a smile, Tony wasn’t sure. It was there and gone in a flash. “Howard Stark owes me a lot of money. He also… screwed me over on a deal I’d rather not get into details about. You, well you were going to be used for ransom, but you seem fairly confident that won't work. But, I’m willing to bet it might if we start sending body parts.”

“No.” Tony was willing to swallow all the pride he had, which was a lot, and beg if that’s what it took to keep all his bits and pieces attached. “Please, no. That’ll only upset Mom. He’s not paying any money for me, I can promise you that much. Your attack dog said something about servitude. You give him a couple days and if he doesn’t send the money, then you’ve got yourself a new slave.”

That produced a definite smile on the mans face. A smile that might’ve even been attractive if Tony didn’t feel like he just sold his soul to the Devil.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”


	3. Chapter 3

The next few days were agony. Little food, limited trips to the bathroom. Other than that they left him in that God awful cell. Tony was dying for human contact, sunlight, and a burger. Three days, then Steve brought him back to the Boss. Tony might’ve felt smug about it if he wasn’t terrified about what that meant for him.

“I knew Howard personally for a time,” the man said as soon as Tony was in the room. “And I thought he was shitty then, but I never knew he could be this heartless.”

“Told you to piss up a rope, huh?” Tony figured it would go that way.

“No.” That’s when blue eyes were on his own again. Maybe it was the lack of people for a few days, because he looked even more attractive than last time. “He decided on complete radio silence.”

“He what?”

“Hasn’t responded to a single one of our demands.” He confirmed his worst suspicions. “Didn’t go to the cops or the media. No one even knows your gone, Tony.”

The only thing Tony could hear was his own heart pounding in his ears. No one knew he was gone. He had assumed Howard would’ve done...something at the very least. How stupid of him to assume anything out of a man he could barely refer to as a Father.

“Lovely.” And suddenly he was laughing. The alternative was to cry. “So, what, I’m your house servant for the foreseeable future?”

Tony could feel his life unravelling with each laugh. This was a nightmare.

“Well, you did make the deal.” He tilted his head at Tony, letting his hair frame his face nicely. “And it’ll be a lot easier for all of us, but mostly you, if you do this willingly.”

The threat was clear. Do what they want, willingly, and you don’t get hurt. The swelling in Tony’s eye was just starting to go down, he wasn’t in a hurry to get it back. “Alrighty then.”

The man opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled something out, placing it on the table in front of Tony. A black strap with a bulky plastic rectangle attached to it stared back at him. For a minute he didn’t get it. Then, “Is that an ankle bracelet?”

He just nodded back at Tony. At first he thought it was a joke, but then realization dawned on him. If they had to make sure he couldn’t leave, that meant he had free range. That would make it easier to escape. Even if it took a while. Still, Tony was hesitant to put it on. A shackle into a life he wanted no part of and wasn’t responsible for at all. It wasn’t fair. Howard should be the one here, not him.

“Put it on, or I will.” The man told him, staring at him, unamused.

And if that wasn’t an invitation for Tony to let himself get touched by the most attractive, deadly man in the house, he didn’t know what was. Unable to say no, Tony lifted his leg in the mans general direction, putting on the most innocent face he could muster. Pure smugness radiated through his body as a shocked look flashed across the man’s face. Clearly it had been an empty threat, but one that Tony accepted nonetheless, therefore it would be a weakness of his character to not follow through with it.

The man grabbed the ankle bracelet and stood up. He was taller than Tony by a couple inches, which only served to keep his intimidating aura intact. In one fluid motion, he walked around the desk and sunk to his knees. It was an awful habit of Tony’s to see the sexuality in everything and anything. Apparently this was one of those times. He didn’t know if he was just imagining it, or if the man was doing it on purpose. Either way, Tony could’ve popped a boner at any second. Baby blues staring up at him through thick lashes was enough to do the trick every single time, but then the man was touching him. Removing his shoe, rolling up his pant leg, and applying the ankle bracelet, all tantalizingly slow and gentle. Then, once it was on, he rolled down Tony’s pants and replaced his shoe, leaving Tony breathless at the man’s actions. Tony’s mind barley even registered that the hand, still covered in a glove, moved stiffly and slower than the other one.

Then he was standing back up, using Tony’s chair as a counterweight, completely invading Tony’s personal space. It was probably the only time Tony had been turned on and terrified at the same time. He was so distracted by that thought alone that he hardly noticed when the man went to stand behind him instead of heading back to his seat. A hand laced through his hair before yanking his head back roughly, making Tony gasp. Part pain, part pleasure. The then man was leaning in to whisper soft and slow in his ear, the Brooklyn accent clear in his voice now, “Things will be a lot nicer for you if you drop that cheeky attitude.”

He shivered unconsciously. Tony wasn’t saying he wanted this to lead into sex, but...if it did, he might not say no. But then the man was returning to his position on the other side of the table looking as calm and collected as ever. The complete opposite of what Tony was feeling.

“You won’t be able to leave with that on. It will produce an alarm on you as well as in the house, in which case you’ll be found fast and punished severely. Oh, and it’s equipped to shock, too.”

“Lovely.” Tony would need to find out how to get it off first, then.

“You’ve already met Steve, Natalia, and Clint. We’ve also got Wanda, Loki, Thor, and Sam. They tend to come and go, but you’re expected to answer to them the same way you would to me. I’m Bucky.”

“Bucky?” Tony let the name roll off his tongue. Strange.

“Buchanan. It’s my middle name. You can call me James if you’d like.”

“No, Bucky’s fine.”

He wasn’t about to get too caught up in names. He didn’t expect to address Bucky on a first name basis often, so it hardly mattered.

“Good. Now let’s discuss your duties.”


	4. Chapter 4

Tony was conflicted. Among some of his duties were cooking, cleaning, laundry, and ‘whatever else you’re asked to do’ as Bucky said. All of which were things Tony had never learned to do. It was terrifying because with the threat of mistakes came the threat of violence. But on the other hand, they gave him a full meal and put him in an actual bedroom with an actual bed. It was like as much as he knew he was in a horrible situation, his brain kept trying to pick out the good pieces. Maybe it was his coping mechanism so he wouldn’t shatter.

Before Tony could throw himself down on the bed and sleep as long as they would let him, doubtfully for 24 hours, but he could hope, Steve was ushering him toward the second door in the room. A bathroom. It was tiny, but all the essentials were there, including a shower. Before Steve could even leave the room, Tony was stripping his clothes off. It had been days since he had a shower and his body was begging to wash the filth off.

“Jesus, Stark.” Steve said, slamming the door shut so he was on other side, away from Tony’s rapidly undressing body. “Have a little shame.”

“No can do, Stevie.” He paused and looked at his ankle. “Hey is this thing waterproof?”

“Yes.” Then after he thought Steve was gone, his voice rand out once more. “There’s some clean clothes for you out here when you’re done.”

Tony was in Heaven. The water was so warm that he just stood there for longer than necessary, letting himself de-thaw from spending so much time in that ratty basement. The soap and shampoo were sub par, but they did the trick. When he finally decided to crawl out and dry himself off, the sleepiness hit him like a train.

Laid out on the bed was a plain pair of plaid pajamas. They were soft but just slightly too big. Not that Tony cared. The clothes he had been wearing for the past four days were starting to smell. Once his sore, aching body hit the bed, he was out. If he had any dreams, he didn’t remember them.

When he woke up, Tony felt slightly more rested. Seeing another set of clothes at the foot of his bed made his stomach churn. They definitely hadn’t been there when he went to sleep, which meant someone snuck into his room. Then he shook off the growing fear. If they wanted him dead, it would’ve happened a lot sooner than now.

Brush your teeth, smooth your hair, get dressed. Tony had to walk himself through the basic motions, in an attempt to keep himself relaxed. So he was the new maid for the mob. So everyone either didn’t know or care that he was gone. So there was the threat of death if he mouthed off. So what? Everything would be fine as long as he kept telling himself that.

When Natasha came around to get him, he was surprised to hear his bedroom door unlock. He hadn’t even realized it had been locked in the first place, but it was terrifying. She gave him a once over, looking at the plain attire that adorned his body. Thankfully it seemed to fit him better, but it still wasn’t an outfit he’d pick out in a million years. Tony had been raised in suits...The most expensive ones his professional shoppers could buy. The baggy jeans and plain cotton t shirt felt foreign on his body.

“I’ll find you a belt as long as you don’t hang yourself with it.” She said over her shoulder as she led him out of the room. “Clean up is my least favorite part of the job.”

That made him smirk. She didn’t care if he was dead or not, she just didn’t want to deal with a body. Tony liked her personality, it was rough around the edges, like his tended to be. His happiness was short lived as Natasha walked him into the kitchen. Oh no...Cooking.

“Don’t look so thrilled, Sugar.” She told him, folding her arms. “Everyone’s already had breakfast except you and Thor. Really, it should be easy for you. He’s a dump truck, he’ll eat anything you bring him, just make sure it’s a lot. Make his first, he’ll be up soon and I don’t feel like listening to him bitch. Up the stairs, fourth door on the right.” Natasha turned to walk out the door before adding, “And don’t be dumb. None of the knives are sharp or big enough for what you need, and everyone in this house could put you down in an instant.”

Lovely. Tony didn’t doubt she could disarm him and kill him in under a minute. Beautiful and deadly. Then he was alone and wondering what the hell he was supposed to cook. The only things Tony recognized as breakfast food were eggs, bread, and a box of pancake mix. That didn’t leave him a lot of options. Eggs. Toast. Tony could do that… Maybe. He’d seen plenty of Nannies cook him scrambled eggs. How hard could it be?

Hard. First, he got shells in the bowl, which he was fairly sure was a bad thing, and they took forever to dig out. Then he had to decide what exactly to add to the eggs and how much. Salt, pepper, milk. Is that it? More, less, something different? Who knew. Not Tony. The worst part was trying to cook it. For the longest time, it wouldn’t cook, but then it happened all at once. Tony was left scrambling to keep it from burning, but also being cooked enough to not be drippy. It was a mess.

Five eggs, a ton of toast. Was that enough? Natasha said he ate a lot, and that was twice what Tony would’ve eaten himself. Adding a glass of orange juice to the tray for good measure, he headed up the stairs. Trying to juggle the food tray with one hand and open the door with the other was a task in itself, and maybe Tony should’ve knocked first. Too late now.

With the sunlight coming through the window on one side, the whole room lit up, showing off a very naked man. Thankfully he had his good bits covered with the blanket, but everything else was out on display. He didn’t look surprised to see Tony, nor did he make an effort to cover himself more. Tony wasn’t complaining about it though, because this guys was built like a tank. Every inch of his body was covered in muscle and Tony couldn't help but stare.

“Good morning, Sunshine.” Tony put on his best smile and inched forward, unsure of where to set the tray. The only table in the room was on the man’s right side, which was the side that had an arm in a sling. “Name’s Tony, nice to meet you.”

“Thor.” The blonde nodded at him, gesturing for Tony to just put the tray on his lap. As much as he wanted to let his fingers graze against Thor’s abs on the way down, he didn’t. What was up with this being the sexiest mob he’d ever seen? Sure it was the only one he’d seen in person, but Tony watched plenty of movies and none of them were like this. “You don’t cook much do you?”

Tony’s overly large ego deflated. Thor looked at the plate like it was the most unappetizing thing in the world before taking a big bite of the eggs.

“Tastes good.” Thor smiled at him before taking another bite. “We just need to work on your presentation. As soon as this arm is fixed, I’ll show you a few things.”

Tony wasn’t expecting that. Thor was by far the nicest mobster he met, therefore his favorite by default. “Looking forward to it, Big Guy.”

He grabbed the pills out of the bedside table on request and watched Thor take two. Seemed like too many, but who was Tony to complain. Back in the kitchen, Tony never wanted to cook another egg in his life. So, he settled for some toast with jelly and an orange. It was probably the healthiest thing he’d eaten all month. Then he found the keurig. Three cups of coffee later, Tony was done with the dishes, had cleaned up the extensive mess he’d made, and feeling fairly decent about his new tasks. Then Steve walked through the door.

“Stark. Grab a bucket and some bleach, you’ll need a lot of it.”


	5. Chapter 5

In theory, Tony didn’t mind blood. It was a natural thing and he had seen his fair share of it plenty of times before. That didn’t stop him from nearly fainting when he saw the copious amount of blood that covered the walls, floor, and metal chair in the room. He was smart enough to know that whoever the blood belonged to didn’t make it out alive. Thankfully there was no body in the room.

Bucky stood in one corner, over a metal table, rearranging a set of deadly looking knives. It made Tony squirm. The look on his face seemed more like ‘I wonder what’s for lunch’ than ‘I just sliced a man to death’... It was scary.

“I expect all of this gone.” Bucky told him, not looking up from his task. “Some of it underneath is really stained, so that’s fine. But work quick before it starts to set.”

Tony had a mop, a bucket, a scrub brush, bleach, and some gloves. It wasn’t enough. As much as he scrubbed, there was always more. What had they even done to this guy to make such a mess. Maybe they’d consider putting down a tarp next time? Tony wasn’t dumb enough to push his luck just yet.

When he finally, finally got it as clean as he possibly could, Tony’s back and arms were on fire. A lot of hunching and scrubbing left him achy. Sadly, he had to admit that this was the most manual labor he’d done...ever. He was tired, sore, and wanted to go to bed. But Clint had other plans.

“Stark. Let’s go. Wash up, you’re helping me with dinner.” He caught Tony in the closet putting away the cleaning supplies. Tony wanted to complain, but thought better of it, not wanting to get a punch, or worse, for talking back. “Normally, I’d just leave you to do it yourself. But Thor says you suck. So you’re going to learn.”

“Perfect. I always wanted to be a housewife.” It slipped off Tony’s tongue before he could stop it. Suddenly he was being slammed into the wall, with Clint’s hand at his throat.

“I don’t know how you were raised, but this is the wrong place for you to be talking like that. Nat’s got more strength in her pinky finger alone than you have in your entire body.

Tony didn’t doubt that in the slightest. He struggled to breath before finally tapping out. Clint released his throat and backed off as if it never happened.

“Come on, man. No disrespect intended. Bad joke, but I picked them all up from Howie, I promise.” Tony stepped back in line with Clint’s pace, finally noticing a small hearing aid in the man's ear. “Trust me. I’ve never had a woman in my life that wasn’t strong and independent on her own. Maybe I actively seek them out. Who knows?”

“Whatever, kid.” Clint stepped to the fridge and started pulling things out one by one. Tony had no idea what most of it was, but he was there to learn, and Tony never backed away from a challenge. “We’re making lasagna. It’s not hard. There’s a cookbook around here somewhere if you want to look at it.”

“Just tell me what to do. I’m a quick learner.”

It went surprisingly well, which was more than Tony had been hoping for. Two giant sized lasagna’s, one made by Clint while Tony mimicked him with the other. His turned out a little more sloppy looking, but he was proud of himself.

“Just take them out the the buzzer beeps. Dining room is next door, set the table. Nine places. No, eight. Wanda’s… out for the night. Oh and use the plates with the silver pattern, it’s the Boss’s favorite. Gotta keep him happy, especially today.”

“What is it his royal highness's birthday or something?”

“No. That punk from earlier just ruined his good suit. Bucky’s a stickler for that kind of thing.” Clint laughed and walked out the door, leaving Tony to get everything ready.

Tony thought back to the small blood stain he noticed on Bucky’s jacket. It was so small it had hardly even registered with Tony at the time. All that mess over a little blood? Seemed a little...dumb? But that was Tony thinking as a rational human being, not a Mob Boss.

After nearly breaking three of the fancy glass plates, Tony finally had the table set. Even he could do that. Forks in the right positions, fancy folded napkins, a skill Tony had learned from his childhood cook, and wine glasses. Not too shabby.

“Hey, dinners ready.” Tony called out the doorway when he saw a shadow go by. Natasha popped her head in to look at the table before nodding. Clearly it was to her satisfaction.

“I’ll call the others.” And she was gone. And Tony was exhausted. Maybe no one would care if he just snuck off to bed. But so what if they did? Someone would just come wake him up to do dishes later when they needed him. No one told him what he could or couldn’t do, well besides leaving and talking back, so maybe he still had freedom over his own bedtime?

The bed beneath him felt amazing. Just as he was about to close his eyes, the door opened. Tony internally groaned. Of course he didn’t get to sleep you.

“I’ve decided you are stupid, Stark.” Natasha told him as she threw a wad of clothes his way. “Get dressed and get down to dinner.”

Oh. Tony hadn’t realized he was supposed to eat with them. He figured that he was a servant that he wasn’t ‘allowed’ to eat with them, if that was the right word he was looking for. Not that it mattered now. Since he wasn’t allowed to sleep eating was the next best thing. Slipping out of his clothes and into the ones Natasha had brought was a little intimidating with her watching from the doorway, but Tony Stark had never had never had shame before and he wasn’t about to start now. A button up and a nice set of dress pants. Tony wouldn’t lie, he looked good. Dress casual. How bad could dinner really be?


	6. Chapter 6

It was a question Tony really, really needed to stop asking himself. How bad could ‘this’ be? The answer was always bad. Awful. So why did he have to go and ask himself that stupid question about dinner?

He strolled in behind Natasha, only to be greeted by a room full of people. All eyes on him. Tony tended to have that effect. Normally it didn’t bother him, but now he could feel himself starting to sweat. Natasha sat next to Steve, leaving Tony hovering in the doorway. Where was he supposed to sit?

“Sit, kid.” Bucky said, gesturing toward the empty chair next to him. He was seated at the head of the table, which was fitting. Tony would much rather sit anywhere but next to Bucky, but he didn’t exactly have a choice. So, steadying himself, he strolled over and plopped down in the seat.

“Hiya.” Tony said, not looking at anyone in particular. There were a few faces that he didn’t recognize along with Steve, Clint, and Thor.

“So,” A pale, man at the far end of the table addressed him first. His hair was long and black, making Tony question why three of these men had longer hair than him. He was used to having the most fabulous hair in the room. “Are you the new Pet or just the maid?”

That peaked his attention. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or get pissed. Pet? Well, that was degrading.

“Brother.” Thor side eyed the man with a warning. No one said anything, so Tony took the opportunity to see how far he could test his limits before he got in trouble.

“Undecided. But I could make a decision for you, tall, dark, and handsome.” Tony threw him a scandalous wink. Flirting came naturally to him. Sometimes he did it out of boredom, but now he was doing it to try and relax himself. It worked for a split second, before he saw the way a few other bodies at the table stiffened.

“Marvelous. I like this one.” The man said to Bucky before taking a bite of his food.

“Tony, take some food. Don’t just sit there.” Bucky told him, giving him a strange look Tony couldn’t place. It was almost enough to make him blush.

The lasagna was good. But whether that was because it was actually good or Tony was just hungry from his small breakfast and no lunch, he wasn’t sure. Natasha grabbed the bottle of wine and went to pour it in his glass, only to stop when Bucky’s gloved hand came up to hover over the mouth of the glass.

“How old are you, Kid?” He raised an eyebrow at Natasha.

“Twenty two.” Tony said after a moment of thought. 16, 18, and 21 were the only milestones to look forward to. Other than that there was no reason to keep track of age. “Why? You’re suddenly so into following the law now?”

Bucky moved his hand, letting Natasha pour the wine into his glass. She filled it almost all the way, and Tony knew that wasn’t right. People filled wine glasses halfway and under to ‘pace themselves’ or something like that. Was it a challenge? Tony wasn’t sure, but he knew he wasn’t leaving until he drank all of it. “Just because I have a different sense of right and wrong than you do doesn’t mean I’d let a kid endanger them self.”

“Endanger?” Tony laughed loudly. “There’s so much wrong with that statement that I don’t even know where to start. Besides, I’ve been drinking since I was… What? 14?”

“Jesus.” Steve shook his head. It wasn’t a detail he liked to share. People always felt bad for him, or trash talked his parents. Both made Tony mad.

The conversation fizzled out from there, and Tony felt eyes on him every time he took a sip. He’d never let judgmental eyes stop him from drinking before and he wasn’t about to now. The next time Natasha filled his glass, it was to the top again. That’s when he tuned things out. There was three different languages that he could pinpoint going back and forth across the table. English, Russian, and maybe some sort of Scandinavian? Tony wasn’t sure about the last one. Anything to do with ‘business’ wasn’t said in English, so Tony couldn’t eavesdrop.

When Natasha went to top off his wine and found the bottle empty, she didn’t hesitate to grab a new one. Everyone had finished eating some time ago, but they were talking about something important, even if Tony didn’t know what. The only thing he did know was that Natasha put the bottle too close to him and he couldn’t help but grab it and start drinking it like that. More eyes digging into him. Tony could care less.

Then Bucky was pulling the bottle away from his lips. Maybe it was just for a second, but it felt like an eternity that they looked into each others eyes. Big, blue, beautiful. Tony watched as Bucky put the bottle up to his own lips and took a sip before handing it back to Tony. He may be drunk, but he could still appreciate the way Bucky’s lips had wrapped around the rim of the bottle.

It went like that until the bottle was gone. Tony chugging it in increments, then Bucky leaning over to grab it for a sip. When it was gone Tony pouted because Natasha didn’t grab him another. Not that he needed it. He just wanted it. When would be his next chance to drink? He had a feeling this was a special occasion dinner and not an everyday occurance. Besides, drinking helped Tony forget his problems. He’d gladly drink until he couldn’t see. Until he couldn’t think. But, life wasn’t that kind. Tony greedily took the half empty glass that Bucky passed to him, swallowing it in one gulp.

“È come un pesce nell'acqua con quella roba.” Someone was saying. That was something Tony recognized. Italian. Most of his nannies were Italian or Spanish, so he spoke both languages fluently. 

“Dovresti vedermi con il whisky.” Tony slurred his words. Wine was good, but Tony preferred anything that was harder. Whiskey was usually his top choice, but Tony was known to try anything and everything without bias.

“He speaks Italian, Steve.” Natasha rubbed in Steve face. “Even the help knows more languages than you.”

“Hablo más que solo italiano.” Tony told her. Maybe he shouldn’t be giving away what languages he could and couldn’t speak, but his inhibitions were lowered right now. Instead of being a prisoner, he was just Tony. Always ready to show off. But maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. Maybe if he could get them to like him, they’d let their guard down. Then he could make his escape.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hella unhappy with this chapter....but you get what you get, and it was this or nothing...so

In order to put his plan into motion, Tony was going to have to get creative. Flirt, compliment, befriend. Whatever it took to gain trust. With trust came freedom and that’s something he needed to take advantage of. But first he needed water. His head throbbed in a way that it hadn’t in a long time. That was disappointing… Tony had built up his tolerance to alcohol through years of hard work and reckless drinking. To have that stripped from him in a matter of days was almost heartbreaking. As soon as he got out of here he was going to drink until he couldn’t remember a thing.

A shower sounded like the best thing right now. Sadly, instead of soaking in the water for as long as he wanted, someone was slamming on the door almost as soon as he jumped in.

“Stark. Hurry up. Big day ahead.” The voice said. It wasn’t one he recognized. Then he realized he hadn’t been introduced to everyone the night before...or had he? Tony couldn’t really remember.

With little to no shame, Tony strolled out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. He had never been embarrassed about his body before and he wasn’t about to start now. A dark skinned man greeted him on the other side. Tony vaguely remembered him from the night before, even though they didn’t talk. Like everyone else he met here, this guy had more muscle than Tony.

“Well I know I’m a little hard to resist,” The man said with a completely flat look on his face. “But most people wait until AFTER the first date to make a move like that. Or until they know my name at the very least, Stark.”

“Who needs something as trivial as names when you’re standing there looking all muscly and brooding?” Tony wiggled his eyebrows at the man, finally making him crack a smile. There was a slight gap in between his two front teeth that Tony knew a lot of people wouldn’t like. But, Tony did. It made him look...distinct. It was nice.

“There’s some clothes in the dresser over there. Get dressed, I’ll be outside.” He said before turning around and heading toward the door. “The name’s Sam, by the way.”

And with that he was gone, before Tony could reply. Clothes. Fresh, clean, clothes. They looked new, but Tony couldn’t imagine they were. They were probably just lightly used. More of the same things lined the drawers, and Tony didn’t really mind. At least they were comfortable. T’shirts, jeans, even a few pairs of sweatpants that he couldn’t imagine himself wearing here. If Tony was going to have to clean up any more blood, he didn’t want to ruin them. He threw on a clean set of clothes and strolled out the door. Sam was waiting outside leaned up against the wall. Why was it that most people looked bored with Tony? Sure it wasn’t killing or torturing people, or whatever these thugs did for fun, but Tony didn’t think he was that bad to be around.

“Alright, Sammy boy, what’s the agenda for today.” Tony asked, falling into place beside the other man. They were headed down a hall that Tony hadn’t noticed before, which wasn’t really surprising. He hadn’t been here long and it was a very, very big mansion.

“Call me that again and I might see how much I can break on you before the Boss has a problem with it.”

“That’s a little excessive.” Tony laughed it off, feeling his stomach drop.

“We’re cleaning today.” Sam pushed open a door to reveal a little room. A washer and dryer sat next to each other looking slightly old and out of place compared to the rest of the accessories in the house. A shelf with what Tony could only imagine was laundry supplies was the only other thing in the room. “And since you’ve apparently never done a goddamn thing in your life, we have to show you how to do even the simplest tasks. I got the short straw today, sadly.”

Tony was embarrassed. Apparently being around him was as bad as they all made it seem. That ripped off a decent sized chunk of his overly large ego. On top of it, Sam was making him sound like an infant. So, he’d never had to cook or clean for himself before. That was one of the perks of having money. Tony had always had people to care for him and do the dirty work. Now… That was him.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’m a child. Teach me what I need to know.” Tony pushed into the small room so he wouldn’t have to look at Sam.

“Fine. First lesson, lose the damn attitude.” Sam warned.

Sam showed him how to separate clothes, what kinds of detergent to put with what, and most importantly how to fold everything. All in all, it wasn’t bad, and Tony had always been a fast learner, so Sam was gas he only needed to be shown once. A lot of the clothes that got worn had to be dry cleaned, so Tony didn’t have to deal with those. Socks, underwear, and workout clothes made up the majority of what he would be responsible for. There were a couple of stellar looking bras in the mix that must belong to either Natasha or Wanda. Nice.

“And try not to mix stuff up.” Sam told him as they sorted everything into piles. “They all come in different baskets, it shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Yes, Dear.”

Thankfully Sam had nothing to say to that. The rest of the day was spent cleaning. Dusters, vacuums, mops, and a whole slew of other things weren’t actually as hard to use as Tony had assumed. In fact, he wasn’t too bad at it. Even Sam stopped harassing him after a while.

“So do you guys do Family dinners every night?” Tony finally asked, wondering if he’d have to cook again tonight. He was hungry, Sam had only given him a granola bar for breakfast and a sandwich for lunch. An actual meal might be good for a change.

“No. Most of us don’t even live here. We’ve all got rooms, but we come and go. There’s business to attend elsewhere. That was a… meeting, I guess you’d call it.”

“I figured. Ordering a hit?” It was a joke...sort of. Tony had no idea what kind of business a mob had besides lending money and killing people. He didn’t particularly care either.

“Among other things.” Sam gave him the goofy smile once more. Hopefully that meant Tony’s plan was working.

For dinner, Tony tried his hand at chicken. He used one of the twenty cook books he found around the kitchen, finding a recipe that even he couldn’t mess up. Nothing was burned, everything was cooked to the right temperature, and it even came out looking half decent. Tony was proud. Sam, Steve, and Clint came through and grabbed some food, all taking off to eat it elsewhere. So, Tony just ate his at the small kitchen table alone, simultaneously thinking of what the next step in his plan was. Clean the dishes, wrap up the rest of the food, go to bed. Tony couldn’t help but be surprised at how mild his day had been. Hopefully there would be more easy days to come.


	8. Chapter 8

Tony made it through almost a full week before he fucked up enough for someone to actually do something about it. Steve had already been in a bad mood from what Tony could tell. That alone should have been enough to keep Tony in line. But, Tony couldn’t help himself. Looking back on it, he wasn’t even sure what he said. All he remembered was making one too many snarky remarks and then a whole world of pain. Steve left him on the floor, bloody and crying. Tony had made himself a promise never to cry in front of them, but once Steve broke his nose, the tears just came out on their own, no matter how hard he willed them to stop.

“Pathetic.” Steve’s harsh voice said from somewhere above him. Tony wasn’t sure though. His eyes were screwed shut, one feeling tender, most likely in the process of swelling once again. “And clean up this mess.”

For a while, Tony just laid there. Then, he dragged himself into a sitting position, propping himself up against the wall. A small puddle of blood sat on the floor in front of him, and Tony knew it would start to stain if he let it sit for much longer. As soon as he got his nose to stop dripping more blood onto the floor, he got to work cleaning. His entire face throbbed, he couldn’t breathe out of his nose, and on top of it all, his lip was starting to swell, too. Tony almost laughed at the realization that he was more worried about his looks than his life.

Tony had never had a broken bone, much less a broken nose. Unsure of what to do first, he decided to ice it. It was painful, but it helped. Maybe. He wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter. More or less pain, it was still pain. And it was more than Tony could handle. That day Tony went about his business much slower than usual, thinking of how he was supposed to set his own nose by himself. In the end, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

The next morning Tony woke up more unrested than he had been during his time in the basement. Stumbling to the bathroom, Tony was disgusted by what he saw in the mirror. Yesterday, he tried gently washing the blood off his face, squirming the entire time at how bad it looked. Today it was worse. The bruising from when they originally kidnapped him had just been starting to disappear… Now it was back and worse than ever. One eye was nearly swollen shut, looking purple and puffy. The other eye was bruised, most likely from his nose. Purple splotches were scattered here and there across his face. But worst of all was his nose. Tony couldn’t even look at it. Bent at a strange angle, still hard to breathe through, Tony knew he needed to fix it or let it heal like that. He didn’t want to do either.

So he ignored it and started his day. Tony didn’t bother to eat breakfast, he didn’t want to move his face, it would hurt. For hours, Tony didn’t run into anyone, and for that he was grateful. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this, but more importantly, he didn’t want anyone making it worse. Just as he was thinking that maybe the building was empty, meaning no one could catch him if he tried escaping, he heard a noise from one of the doors. Bucky’s office. It was on Tony’s list of things to clean for the day. Should he wait until later to clean up in there and hope that Bucky was gone? Or should he do it now and get it over with? As he stood there trying to decide, the door swung open, causing Tony to stumble back in shock.

“Sorry.” Tony blurted out, looking down. He didn’t want anyone looking at him, but he definitely didn’t want Bucky’s intense blue eyes on him when he felt so vulnerable.

“You look pretty banged up, Kid.” Bucky said, unmoving in the doorway. “Who’d you piss off this time?”

“Steve.”

“I figured. He usually goes for the face.” Bucky nodded to himself before gesturing for Tony to come inside. It was the last thing Tony wanted to do, but he followed the man anyways. “You’re lucky though, he’s usually the most gentle.”

Tony was on the verge of vomiting. He didn’t like the way that Bucky was talking about it like it was just facts of life. What he got was gentle? It was about as gentle as being hit by a truck! Was Bucky mocking him, or was he implying that all the others could be a lot more brutal? Tony didn’t want to find out. He couldn’t even bring himself to make a snarky remark.

“Sit down, Tony.” Bucky gestured to the seat. No, no, no, no, Tony repeated over and over in his head as he sat down anyways. Curiously, he watched Bucky dig around in his desk before going to a cabinet. He took out some whiskey, what looked like medical tape, and a few other things Tony didn’t recognize. Oh no.

“No.” Tony said, starting to stand up. The panic was starting to set in. He needed to get out of there.

“Sit down.” Bucky’s hand was on him, shoving him back into the seat. “I’m going to fix that nose. It looks awful.”

“I could use a little bit of distinction. I’m so pretty, I could use a bent up nose to balance that.” Tony was rambling. He didn’t want Bucky to touch his nose, it was going to hurt. He was in enough pain.

“We can do it the easy way or the hard way, Tony, but either way we’re doing it.” Bucky poured some whiskey into a glass and handed it over to Tony. He wasn’t going to get drunk enough off of it to get rid of the pain, but maybe it would help with his anxiety a little. After he gulped it down, Bucky poured him another one. “I’m going to give you some ibuprofen to take.”

“While I’m drinking? Isn’t that bad for me?” Tony asked. Not that he cared. If it killed him, so be it. He even thought he saw Bucky roll his eyes at that.

“You’re not having a lot of either. You’ll be fine. But if you want to be in pain later, you can tell me no.” Bucky held two little pills out to Tony. They stared at each other for a while before Tony grabbed them and popped them in his mouth. There was a brief flicker in his mind, telling him to just take them out of the man’s hand with his mouth, but for once Tony couldn’t bring himself to be such a sexual deviant. He didn’t want to get hit, but he also knew it wouldn’t be sexy with his face looking so busted up.

A few more minutes ticked by before Bucky made his move. His hands were surprisingly gentle on Tony’s face, even the gloved one, which made him question again why he always wore it. The gentle touch didn’t stop Tony from flinching, and that made Bucky grab on a lot more firmly. Before Tony could pull away, tell him to stop, or even scream, he felt a pop.

“Ow.” Was the only thing he said. It hurt, but… nothing compared to what he had been expecting. “Is that it?”

“Yes.”

Oh… Wow. Tony had been expecting a lot more. Now he felt embarrassed for overreacting. Then he noticed Bucky’s hands were still on his face. He didn’t know why, but he enjoyed it all the same. The man’s right hand slipped down to tug at Tony’s lip. His body was on fire for an entirely different reason this time.

“There’s not much I can do about this.” Bucky told him, brushing his fingers over Tony’s swollen, split lip. It hurt as much as it felt good. “If you ice it, the swelling will go down.”

As he pulled away, Tony almost let his head follow. Luckily he caught himself. Bucky was taping up his nose like a professional, yet still somehow oddly tender in his actions. Tony figured Bucky had to deal with a lot of broken noses being in such a rough profession.Then, without another word, Bucky was leaving the room, presumably finish what he had been doing before, leaving Tony sitting there with a hollow feeling in his chest. It must be the alcohol.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's back, bitches. Not me. Enjoy this cuz who knows when you'll get more

It took Tony a million years, or at least it felt that way, to find some tools. He was sure he could have fixed the washer with his bare hands in the time it took to find the necessary equipment he needed. But it was all worth it to get that horrible clinking sound gone once and for all. Sure, he loved to fix things, but it would be better to just get a new washer and dryer. They were so old. Next came the shower downstairs, the wobbly table in his room, and the changing of two almost dead light bulbs. Then the ‘fix it’ craving set in. Tony searched almost the entire mansion before someone stopped him.

“What are you doing?” Bucky’s voice startled Tony so bad that he nearly whacked his head from his spot under the sink.

“There was a leak.” Tony replied, crawling out, letting the tools scatter around him. Bucky looked good. It made Tony a little self conscious being all sweaty in a tank top, covered in who knows what kind of filth.

“Oh. Well, thanks I guess.”

“Also got the washer, the ironing table, my dresser, one of the showers, and… some other things. Not to sound like a dick, but you guys have a lot of broken stuff around here.” Tony glanced up at Bucky. He’d been trying to watch his words around everyone lately, now that his nose was finally fixed. Or had stopped hurting at least. He wasn’t sure how long noses took to heal.

“And you just fixed it?”

“Yeah…” Tony’s throat went dry. He hadn’t been told not to touch anything, in fact he thought they might appreciate things not falling apart on them. Bucky didn’t look upset, but he never did, so that didn’t mean much.

“I didn’t know you were good with your hands.” Bucky knelt down to grab a wrench off the floor. An image flashed through Tony’s mind where Bucky bashed the wrench into Tony’s teeth repeatedly. Instead Bucky just flipped it over in his hand a couple times before placing it down on the floor again.

“You can always count on me to be good with my hands.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Thankfully Bucky laughed, making Tony’s chest feel tight. He had been feeling a lot more skittish the longer he spent there.

“I’m sure I can, Doll.” Bucky slipped it into the sentence so fluidly that Tony didn’t even notice it at first. Once he realized what the older man had said, Tony was reeling. Was he really so starved for affection that a silly little, very outdated word made him shiver? “You good with cars, too?”

“Yes.” Tony needed no context. He’d love to get his hands on any vehicle, no matter how small the issue was. 

“Then I got a project for you. Tomorrow.” He stood up, brushing his knees clean. Tony could hardly breathe. Car, car, car, car. It had been so long since he was able to work on anything big, much less a car. Even his fingers twitched out of excitement.

“Tomorrow? Why not today? Right now?” Tony couldn’t help himself. He’d go stir crazy before tomorrow came. Bucky only stared. “Please?”

“I suppose. Come on.” Bucky said, heading for the door. Tony watched him walk away for five seconds before bolting after him. He couldn’t believe it actually worked. Although he’s glad he didn’t have to beg for it… Because at that point, he just might’ve. Car, car, car, the word was on repeat in his head. Tony hoped it was something that could keep him occupied for more than a day at the very least. But, no matter what it was, he was so thankful for it anyways. “I remember Howard saying something about you messing around with his cars a few years ago. You did a nice job, so I’m expecting that same kind of perfection with mine.”

“You know Howard?” Tony was shocked.

“You knew that, Tony. I already told you he screwed me over.” Bucky didn’t look back at him, but Tony noticed the way the man’s shoulders tensed.

“No. That’s a business thing. You know Howard. He only brags about me to friends, not broody business partners.”

Bucky knew Howard… How? Why hadn’t Tony ever met him before now? Why did Howard insist on showing off a son he absolutely hated? He figured he’d never get answers to any of it, but it didn’t hurt to ask. Well, unless Bucky made him hurt as a punishment for being nosey. He was hoping that wouldn't happen though.

“I don’t brood.” Was the only reply he got. Tony just rolled his eyes. It wasn’t even worth arguing over. The garage was down one of the halls that was locked with a big thick door. Did that mean there was something important there? Or just a way for Tony to get out? Maybe he’d get lucky and find out.

“So tell me about this car.” Was what Tony managed to get out before he saw it. Dead center of the room was a wreck. Smashed to ever living hell, the figure would make a better pretzel than car. “You want me to fix that? I don’t know if I can.”

“Of course you can. It’ll just take time and precision. I’d do it myself, but..” Bucky paused, looking at the car with a sadness Tony hadn’t seen on many people, much less someone so deadly. “This car means a lot to me. It’s the last thing I have of my family. Fix it and I’ll let you go a hell of a lot sooner.”

Sooner. Tony’s heart was thumping so hard in his chest that he was sure it would pop out. Sooner. He wasn’t exactly sure how long that would be, but it was better than nothing. It was also a comforting thought that Bucky was saying ‘fix it and you’ll leave sooner’ and not something along the lines of ‘fix it or die’, which meant that they really did plan on letting him go at some point. He had been starting to think that maybe they’d just keep him forever, or at least until someone beat him to death or something like that.

“Ok. Ok.” Tony circled the car, taking it in. Maybe it wasn’t as impossible to fix as he thought. “You get me the equipment, and I can fix this baby up in no time.”

He just hoped he could deliver on that promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nah but really, between the depression, work, and school, I don't always have time or energy to write. Just know I always appreciate your comments and it helps to motivate my lazy ass.


End file.
